


Moonlight

by Fanartyparty



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mr. Darcy POV, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29585295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanartyparty/pseuds/Fanartyparty
Summary: As he neared, he realized the streak of light was coming from a gap between two doors, standing slightly ajar.After being rejected Mr. Darcy finds himself rather distracted.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am thinking of adding a tiny continuation!
> 
> If you find any grammatical errors or the like I appreciate a heads up!

Mr. Darcy found himself in absolute darkness. Blinking in confusion he saw a sliver of light cutting through the room. As he walked closer to the source of light he could hear the sound of someone breathing heavily. It sounded high pitched, almost as if under great duress. Quietly, he walked closer to the light and the sound, peering curiously, yet cautiously in front of him, feeling inextricably drawn closer, like a moth towards a lit lamp.

As he neared, he realized the streak of light was coming from a gap between two doors, standing slightly ajar.

He peered through the crack.

It was his own bedchambers. He could recognize his fireplace, and his chair angled towards it. His book, discarded in his seat. He must find himself in the hallway right outside-

A whine interrupted his musings of the familiar scene.

With the hair raising on the back of his neck, he redirected his attention to the other side of the room , the source of the sound.

On the bed lay a woman, with naught but a sheet pulled up between her legs.  
Her body bathed in moonlight, her skin looked like white silk.

His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, as his breath quickened.

Her breasts pulsated up and down with her heaving breath as she gasped. She had parted her long beautiful legs, her right hand reaching between them, disappearing under the cloth that covered her. _Was it her? It could not be?_

As Darcy stared completely enraptured, his chest igniting, his veins burning, himself hardening, she tipped her head back, moaning, exposing a long, beautiful neck.

Mr Darcy was paralyzed, staring at this fantastical apparition before him.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet splayed out before him like a decadent feast, moaning in wanton pleasure. He felt himself filling, aching, yearning, longing for her soft embrace.

It was wrong. Voyeuristic, perverted really, and decidedly ungentlemanly to stand here and gape. Yet he could not look away.

Elizabeth lifted her head, her curls shifting in the silver light, with an expression almost of agony. Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted, as she breathed:  
«Oh, Fitzwilliam… Please…»

Mr Darcy felt the air rushing out of him in an audible rush.

In an instant, Elizabeth stilled, her eyes snapping open, finding his through the gap.

Their gazes locked.

Suddenly he was inside the room, he didn’t know how he had gotten there.

He found himself incapable of forming a single cohesive thought, much less utter a single word.

She sat still, her hands holding the cloth, her bright eyes glittering in the soft pale light.  
«Mr Darcy! I…»

His heart was pounding as he attempted to say something, wether to apologize or accuse her of stealing his bed, or something equally absurd. His chest felt like it was about to explode.

«Oh Fitzwilliam, please, I… could you just…» her eyes pleaded.

Slowly, she removed the cloth from between her legs, laying herself out on the bed with her hands beside her head, all the while holding his gaze, «Please, for just a moment…»

He walked further into the room following her eyes. As he reached the foot of the bed her eyes dropped to his shirt. As he removed his garments like a man in a trance, she traced her hand down her smooth form to resume its position between her legs. He looked on, mesmerized.

He found himself situated between her legs , leaning over her. The soft light seemed to wrap around them, like a soft blanket, cocooning them in an otherworldly glow.

Her unoccupied hand laid itself on his neck, and he leaned forward and kissed her, feeling her soft responsive lips, delved into her like a man starving. He felt like he was, his whole body aching with hunger pains. He devoured her with relish, feeling her hands grasping his shoulders, burying themselves in his hair.

As he licked her neck, his hands roaming over the smooth expanse of her body, she whispered:  
«Fitzwilliam, I need you… I need you to…» her voice strained and breathy.  
She spread her legs further, pulling him closer.

He looked into her bright eyes as he slipped into exquisite, wet, heat.  
They moaned in unison, Elizabeth louder than ever before, and it was like a symphony.  
He began to thrust into her slowly and deeply, relishing her gasps sounding as if they were being pushed out of her by him.

The moonlight seemed to make her skin glitter.

«Oh Fitzwilliam I…! I love you! I love you I love you I love you! I never want to be parted from you! You are my one, my only! Oh Fitzwilliam, please!»

It was like a dam had broken and the word gushed out of her. He caught her lips, wanting to capture the words and keep them, wanting to tell her how he felt the same through his actions. He set a higher pace, grabbing her hips and making them meet him, thrusting in to her heavenly, dripping wet, cunt.

He wanted to fuse them together, to become as close to one as two humans possibly could, not knowing where the one ended and the other began.

He could feel her tightening, that glorious, canal enveloping him. He pulled her closer to him, pistoning his hips, kissing her neck, feeling her hands grabbing him tightly as she neared her climax. Reaching, reaching, she cried.

«Fitzwilliam! I'm gonna! I’m gonna-!»

_Thump!_

Darcy woke up with a start.

He jolted up from the bed, looking around disorientated as he tried to get his bearings. His heart was pounding in his chest, his skin was covered in a thin film of sweat.

In the bleak morning light he found himself in the same bedchamber as in his dream, alone in the same bed, with the same fireplace and chair. Outside the door he could hear mumbled swearing and quick, receding footsteps.

He sighed, laying back down in his sodden sheets, feeling a slight chill as his sweat cooled.  
He closed his eyes, frowning, and tried to conjure up some of the images from his dream, as he took himself in hand.  
Already close to bursting, rock hard and slicked with precum, he finished in mere moments.

Although having finished, he felt unsatisfied. Having had his buildup so severely interrupted, his orgasm was underwhelming, the only thing it really achieving was to clear his head enough to feel slightly dirty. He felt cold, alone in his bed as he cooled down.

With another sigh, he lifted himself from the bed, washed and got dressed, all the while feeling tense and irritated.

During his morning meal he found himself in a terribly gloomy mood, the tension he felt making his posture even more tightly wound, his already serious countenance now appearing severe. He sensed the servants darting glances to each other at his clipped responses, his butler Harrison, whoms’t he had always had a polite and friendly rapport with, seemed genuinely concerned at his dourness. As he ate he was nothing but a silent brooding companion to his poor sister Georgiana, who attempted to make polite conversation before going silent after a few minutes.

As she politely excused herself to escape his gloomy presence, he couldn’t help but internally smile at how correct Miss Bennet’s assessment of his character truly was. _«Selfish disdain towards the feelings of others»_ indeed.

It did not make him feel any better.

He retreated to his study, wishing to not impose his horrible presence on anyone else further, but not before attempting to discuss a matter of some packages which had arrived with Harrison, making an effort to milden his countenance and even smile for a moment. From the look on Harrisons face it probably looked more like a grimace, but he seemed at bit less like he thought Mr. Darcy was about to set something on fire, so there was that.

In his study he felt himself incapable of concentrating, alternating between losing himself in vivid memory of his dream, and disgust at this insight into his own embarrassing and idiotic fantasies.  
_What was he? A fifteen year old school boy, getting off on peeping through door cracks? How on earth could he look at Miss Bennet again, having so throughly soiled her in his mind?_

It was not like this was the first time he had thought of such things with Miss Bennet. But the voyeurism and the excessive love proclamations were a new additions and unbearably embarrassing ones at that. It was also quite different now. Before it had been dreams of a woman he intended to marry. Now they were dirty fantasies of a woman who had made it abundantly clear that such things would never happen. Her statement: «the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed upon to marry» still rang in his ears. What would she think of him if she knew all the things he thought of her, when a mere proposal disgusted her so?

He sighed. What does it matter, though, now? It seemed unlikely that he would see her any time soon. Or ever again really. It left a terrible ache in his chest to think of these things.

He attempted to return to his work.

As he caught himself harden once again, staring blankly at his nonsensical calculations, lost in reverie, he huffed in frustration before he let his head meet his desk.

He was a fucking disgrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A musical piece that really inspired the «atmosphere» of the beginning of this chapter, was «La terrasse des audiences du claire de lune» by Debussy. If you’re a music nerd like me and/or interested, then chek it out! Whether you agree or not that it fits the vibe, it’s a really beautiful piece that I highly recommend. Link: https://youtu.be/sTGx3XHwqQk


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation with Georgiana the same day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more concerned with developing the story a bit further to some sort of resolution for Mr. Darcy, so if you're looking for sexy times I recommend jumping to chapter three.

As teatime arrived he heard a knock on his door. The familiar voice of his sister called, «Fitzwilliam?»

«Yes, Georgiana. Do come in.»

She opened the door, looking in timidly.

He put the papers he had been perusing down, feeling a pang of guilt at having her look so unsure. He _knew_ her timid nature, he _knew_ how quickly she retreated into herself.

«Do come in Georgiana. I apologize for my mood, I must admit I slept rather poorly.» A bit of a lie, but a necessary one.

She seemed to relax a bit, entering the room.

«I only wished to remind you of the time, as it is nearing teatime, and sometimes you forget and write until your hand cramps and you acquire a headache from dehydration, and pretend that you don’t even though it obviously pains you…»

She trailed of throughout her speech, self-conscious, but there was genuine concern in her eyes and not regarding his forgetfulness. He had not shown himself since morning, rather had a light meal brought to him as he had actually managed to concentrate a bit around noon, and purposefully avoiding interacting with anyone.

Darcy understood. He was typically not so moody, perhaps often times quiet and reserved, but Georgiana was aware of the difference.

«It seems you are quite right, dear sister, time has run away from me indeed. I would greatly enjoy for you to stay with me for tea if you are not otherwise engaged?»

His sister brightened, shaking her head.

«If you could call for tea, so I may just finish this paragraph.»

She quickly called for tea and they seated themselves in the seating group in the middle of the room.

As tea was brought in, he asked about the pieces she was playing on the piano-forte, how her French lessons were faring along, what she was planning to do later. As she spoke excitedly of new sheet music, he noticed himself genuinely smiling for the first time, he noticed, in an abysmally long time.

After the tea was laid out, both of them holding their cup and enjoying a moment of silence in each others company, Georgiana adopted a slightly more serious expression.

She seemed unsure yet determined as she spoke.

«Fitzwilliam, I hope you do not take this unkindly, but… you seem a bit unwell, as of late.»

He looked at her with an expression of mild confusion.

She seemed to steel herself.

«Is there something bothering you?»

He stared blankly at her.

He was used to being Georgianas confidant, considering how he had become her primary caretaker, as she still was so young. To have the roles reversed though, seemed… well he didn’t know what it seemed like. Only, it made him uncomfortable.

«I don’t mean to pry of course!» She exclaimed before continuing, «it’s only… well, you have been rather bleak lately. You walk as if you have this heavy burden on your shoulders, and you spend most of your time in your study, only coming out with a drawn expression on your face. Of course, there may be little that I can do, you have probably very important things on your mind. But, well…»

She seemed to lose a bit of steam, speaking to her hands fiddling with her teacup, before she looked up.

«I care about you. I love you very much Fitzwilliam, and I hate to think of all you have done for me and how often you have supported me, and to see you suffer so completely alone.»

At this, Darcy found to his own surprise his eyes slightly water. His sister was such a kind spirit, he did not know how he deserved to have her in his life. _By God, what a ridiculously emotional day! What on earth was the matter with him?_ He quickly blinked, attempting not to embarrass himself any further, and cleared his throat.

«Georgiana I thank you for your concern, and I care greatly for you too. Do not think for a moment that it has been a burden to support you or help you, it is the least that I owe you. You are a blessing to me. As to whether something is bothering me, I can not deny that I do feel rather… dispirited as of late… But not to worry, I can assure you it is nothing of serious concern, not something you need to worry about, at the least. It will pass.»

Georgiana seemed relaxed at him not taking offense, while simultaneously a bit disappointed.

They sipped their cups in silence for a few moments before she broke the silence again.

«Did something happen with Miss Elizabeth Bennet?»

She spoke this to her teacup.

His eyes widened in suprise. The air seemed to have been punched out of his chest, his stomach tightening, all of the color leaving his face.

«Oh I am sorry! I shouldn’t have said that, what was I thinking? Forget I said anything!»

Georgiana retracted her statement desperately, seeing her brothers astonishment.

«What… What makes you think Miss Bennet has anything to do with… this?» He said, attempting in vain to seem calm an unaffected while his voice was an octave higher than usual. He wasn’t aware that Georgiana had known anything about his interactions with Miss Bennet.

She looked down in to her teacup as she spoke.

«It’s just. Well, you have talked about Longbourne and Miss Bennet in the past, even complementing her rather frequently, which you usually do not do, not so unprompted at least. And then during your visit to Kent you mentioned seeing her in your letter, but when you returned stopped mentioning her all together, and also… acting, well, a bit… dispirited,» she finished lamely.

Darcy didn’t know what to say to this, so he didn’t say anything at all. Georgiana seemed to understand the answer anyway from the way she suddenly offered to perform a piece she had been practicing lately, distracting him and forcing his attentions from his inner musings.

As he went to bed that evening he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at his transparency, the way his sister could read him so easily. He also ached at the thought of how wonderful it all could have been, to have Miss Elizabeth (for he allowed himself to think of her as Elizabeth only in the privacy of his own bedroom) with him as he had watched Georgiana play earlier that day. How wonderful it could have been to lay down beside her in the evening. To discuss with her whether he he should order the new piano-forte to Georgiana now, or wait until her birthday. To talk to, to hold, to love.

He turned over with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. This would not do. Nothing good would come of this, moping about, thinking of could-have-been’s and what not. It was hurting not only him, picking at this wound like this, but also people around him. Georgiana didn’t deserve this, neither Harrison or any of the other servants either. He had neglected Bingley for far too long as a friend, and a multitude of others had been ignored after the fiasco in Kent.

He made a resolution that if nothing else he would prove to himself that he was a better man than Elizabeth thought him to be. At least, he could become that better man.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reminiscing about the past with Elizabeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for tooth rotting fluff. Rounding of this little work with this short, little, happy ending. I really only intended for this to be a one chapter thing, but I felt like continuing the story. Hope you enjoy!

Lying in bed sated and warm, Elizabeth beside him with her head resting on his arm, moonlight tinkling in through the window, Mr. Darcy found himself amusedly reminiscing over his past frustration he had suffered in this very same bed.

He looked at Elizabeth lying peacefully beside him, her curls gleaming in the soft pale light, and felt an intense surge of emotion. How lucky he was. He did not know such happiness could exist, not until now, with Elizabeth in his life, brightening the world around her, letting him bask in her light.

Leaning over, he kissed her forehead tenderly, receiving an affectionate and rather amused smile, her eyes seeming to read his sentimental musings like a book.

«And how are we this fine evening Mr. Darcy? You look deep in contemplation,» her lips quirked, quite becomingly Darcy thought.

«You can not imagine how many times I have thought of this in the past. Lying with you here.»

«Hmm, I think I may have an inkling.»

They laughed, as lovers do, high on endorphins in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

«No. Before our engagement. Really from the first moment I had a conversation with you. I would frustrate myself endlessly with thoughts of you in this bed with me.»

«My, my. And what did we do in these dreams of yours,» teasing, as she was won’t to do.

«Would you rather I make a list?» He quipped, and then they giggled once again, basking in each others adoration.

«But there is one dream that I remember quite vividly.» She faced him now, her face in curious anticipation, a hand lightly stroking his chest as she looked at him. He looked up to the ceiling as he spoke.

«It began with me standing outside the bedroom door, peeking at you lying on this bed. You were completely naked, pleasuring yourself as I stared through the door crack.»

«Mr. Darcy! I did not take you for such a voyeur.»

«Me neither! Until that dream at least.» Smiling, smiling, smiling. He had smiled more often, more completely these last few weeks, than he had smiled for all his life before.

He turned them over so he could kiss her neck.

«Oh, but the sight of you in my dream, Elizabeth. How you tortured me so. Haunting me, where ever I went.»

«Should I take to masturbating on this bed at random intervals then? So as to indulge your fantasies? We wouldn’t wish for reality to disappoint such fantastical musings,» she teased him.

He looked up startled.

«I would certainly not be averse.»

He turned his attentions to her breasts, as he spoke.

«Nothing that my mind could conjure up could compare to you.»

He licked and sucked between her legs, moaning at how her hands found themselves in his hair, pulling on him to stay, to continue. With the help of his hands he brought her to completion, delighting in her soft and pliant body.

After this little distraction they reassumed their position. Elizabeth resting her head on his arm, the both of them staring unseeingly, lost in thought, at the ceiling.

«Flirt,» Elizabeth eventually mumbled, which set them off again, Darcy feeling like his ribcage was too small to contain the joy of it all.

«I remember it so well I think, because as I, well, after I had stared at you, I entered the room and… ah…»

«Me, I presume.»

«Indeed, thank you. But as you were on the verge of orgasming, the very moment you were about to come, I was awoken by some sound from outside. You cannot believe my frustration.»

She giggled at him and his expression of exasperation as he told of his woes. He frowned for a moment.

«I think it was Harrison. Dropped something heavy I think.»

«Cad,» Elizabeth interjected. He snorted, before he continued.

«I heard someone swearing and then footsteps, but who knows at this point. Anyways, I was most distraught. In an absolutely awful mood. Georgiana thought I was ill at a certain point I think.»

They laughed at his silliness, easily, as it was something so completely belonging to the past.

«Poor Fitzwilliam,» Elizabeth cooed, having placed her hand on his face, her expression amused. Her eyes twinkled like stars in the great night sky, as they wasted the night and it’s glimmering moonlight away, together.

The End.


End file.
